The Fated Four
by sunset to star rise
Summary: 1971: The Marauder's first year at Hogwarts. Darkness is rising, alliances are being formed, but all the young students can really hope for is to survive Care of Magical Creatures with all of their limbs intact. Things are changing in the wizarding world, though, and for the youth of Hogwarts it's only a matter of time before something wicked appears on their doorstep...
1. James & Lily

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own nor make any claims to anything Harry Potter related. This story is entirely my own creation and it is merely the nonsensical ramblings of an idle author._

 **September 1, 1971**

 **Introduction: James Potter & Lily Evans**

"So, you just walk right through, then?"

"Right through. Just like nothing's out of the ordinary, son."

James Potter swallowed deeply, nervously peeking at the entrance to Platform 9 ¾. He believed his father, he truly did, it was just that James didn't see how it was possible to simply walk through a _brick_ wall. It would make much more sense to apparate, Floo even, anything else at all, really - but if Fleamont Potter said to walk through the wall, James would most certainly follow him.

He wasn't one to back down from a challenge, least of all in front of his father.

"Boys!" Euphemia Potter appeared behind them, somewhat out of breath as she wrapped her arms around the father and son duo. Ushering the two forward, not even bothering to wait for James to wrap his mind around what was about to happen, she propelled them ahead with a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure that no one was watching. "The train is leaving soon, let's get a move on it."

James' eyes closed tightly as the wall came within centimeters of his face, only opening them again when the deafening sound of a train coming to life and dozens upon dozens of people milling about sounded around him. His eyes soon widened, a smile breaking out on his face. It was finally happening - he was _finally_ going to Hogwarts.

Completely oblivious as his father unloaded the two hefty trunks and a large owl cage from the trolley, James practically skipped forward, his mother following closely at his heels. Witches and wizards, as far as the eye could see, and the Hogwarts Express, what a beauty she was - he could hardly contain his excitement. James was determined to live up to his father's prime example; he'd join the dueling club, probably Gobstones and wizard's chess, too. He'd get top marks in Potions, just like Fleamont - maybe he'd even be the next inventor in the family. And Gryffindor, well, Gryffindor was a given; his first baby blanket had been crimson and gold, after all. Potters had been sorted into Gryffindor for decades and James would be no exception.

His daydreaming was abruptly cut short, though, as he felt five firm fingers grasping onto the collar of his robes. Stumbling back in surprise, he looked up to see his mother staring down at him, her impressive height always a disadvantage at the most inopportune moments.

Blinking, James immediately abandoned his explorations as Euphemia spun him around, pulling him back gently with a tut of her tongue. "Do wait for your father, James." She corrected him softly, holding him at an arm's length so that she could take a good look at her handsome boy.

James pulled a face, even though he secretly enjoyed the attention; his mum meant the world to him, though his pubescent self hardly would admit it freely lest wild hippogriffs pulled it out of him. Euphemia seemed pleased with what she saw: his clothes were neatly pressed, the Hogwarts crest stitched intricately into the soft fabric of his robes. As she smoothed the wrinkles from his shoulders, she hummed appreciatively; Fleamont had tried to talk her out of spending so much on custom made robes but the cut fit James' lanky form so cleanly. He was an attractive boy and she acknowledged the fact, dutifully making sure James was dressed in a way that complimented his inherited good looks.

She was proud of her son, after all, and not only for his intelligence and wit.

"Now, James, make sure you write whenever you can." Euphemia fussed with her son's tie, pulling at it here and there until she was satisfied it finally looked decent enough. "And don't you dare dream of staying there over the holidays or I'll come get you myself."

"Mum, really-"

"And If she doesn't, I will." Fleamont squashed James' rebuttal once and for all, raking a hand frustratedly through his salt and pepper hair. He occasionally felt older than most parents (mostly because he was) but now, surrounded by hordes of families, he truly did feel his age. Euphemia's beauty had hardly dimmed over the years - even now, he could spy a few wandering eyes on her - but Fleamont knew he hadn't been quite so fortunate.

"Dad, really-"

"Don't fuss with your hair, James." Euphemia batted James' hand away from his head, knowing he was intent on messing up the masterpiece she'd worked so hard on. For once, his hair was combed tidily, slicked back with what one could call the family inheritance. She saw no reason as to why James should have messy hair, not when his father had tamed the tresses of the entire wizarding world.

"I hate Sleekeazy's," James interrupted her ministrations, wrinkling his nose as he complained. And he truly did - it was greasy and made his cowlick look odd. Besides, his dad barely used it these days, so why should James?

He was a Potter, through and through; their trademarks were being in Gryffindor and having exceedingly messy hair. He was simply following in the family tradition.

"James Potter, don't you dare." His mother warned him one last time, swatting his hand away again as he tried to sneak in a quick scratch. Her chiding stopped abruptly, though, as a family a short distance away caught her attention.

James followed her glance, spotting a group of four looking very much confused by what was happening around them. The father was calmly ushering the others through the platform, though definitely somewhat shellshocked by the overwhelming crowds and hooting owls. The mother, a slender woman with brilliant red hair, was holding the hands of two young girls. One was surly looking, the darker haired of the two, and the other had a wide smile on her pretty face. It was the younger girl that caught James' eye, her auburn locks nearly identical to her mother's. As they passed by, the girl turned and looked almost directly over his shoulder, emerald eyes scanning the crowds eagerly.

"Poor dears," Euphemia murmured softly, looking to the family sympathetically. "How strange and confusing we must look to Muggles. I can't imagine how odd it must be to be surrounded by wizards for the very first time."

Fleamont gave his wife a reassuring smile, knowing just how much she must have wanted to offer her assistance. Had it not been the last few remaining moments they had to spend with their son before an anguishing separation, he had no doubt Euphemia would've left him behind long ago to introduce herself to the family.

"I think it's time for James to get going." Fleamont piped up, wrapping his son up in a great bear hug. "Good luck, lad." He said just loud enough for James to hear, resting his chin on the boy's head. He knew Euphemia would miss James terribly but he felt as if he was losing a part of himself, letting James go off into the world.

"I suppose so." Euphemia's cheerful tone dropped and she joined her husband and son, wrapping herself around them. Fleamont looked to her lovingly, opening up his arms so that she could come closer to them, pulling her to his side. His family may have been small but he'd trade all of the gold in Gringotts to ensure their happiness.

Dropping a kiss on James' cheek, Euphemia wiped a few tears away before anyone could catch sight of her. She'd give anything for another year with James at home, even though he'd been dreaming of Hogwarts for months now. It was his time and she knew that, deep down.

"Goodbye, my love." She whispered, tucking back a stray hair that was threatening to break free. Not even Sleekeazy's could tame the cursed Potter men - their hair was almost as stubborn as they were.

James reveled in the warmth of his parents, hugging them both tightly. However, the excitement eventually got to him once again, and he stepped back with a bright look in his hazel eyes. "Love you mum, love you dad - see you in December, eh?" He waited around long enough only for one more kiss from his mum, discreetly wiping away her lipstick when she wasn't looking, and then hurried towards the train with a skip in his step.

The cars were crowded with people, luggage in the aisles making it hard to pass, and he hurried through the narrow corridors in search of an empty compartment. Already people seemed to be forming their alliances; cabins were full of Slytherins, even a few boisterous Hufflepuffs enjoying a loud game of Exploding Snap. James knew a handful of wizarding children his age, having grown up in a magical community his entire life, but saw no faces he recognized. He felt very little all of a sudden, unsure of himself, but he forged forward and swung around a corner.

Almost immediately, he ran headfirst into another boy, letting out a surprised cry as they bumped into each other. The long haired boy stepped back, equally as shocked by the intrusion on his personal space, and rubbed his forehead wryly. His grey eyes danced, seemingly amused.

"Well, that's one way to introduce yourself."

* * *

Violet Evans felt more out of place than she ever had before in her entire life.

So much so that she was waiting for someone (preferably someone in a starched white uniform of sorts) to come and escort her out of there. She barely believed in magic and yet here she was, about to send off her smiley eleven year old daughter to some unknown school on the blind encouragement of an old man with the longest beard she'd ever seen.

If that didn't make her a total crackpot, she didn't know what did.

Lily Evans, on the other hand, felt similarly but for entirely different reasons. Everything was like a dream to her, so completely unreal - from the moment the first acceptance letter had arrived to this very instant, none of it seemed true. Sure, she'd believed Severus years ago when he'd told her she was a witch; after all, she didn't know anyone else who could control flowers blooming or make the playground swings move just by willing it to happen. She'd always felt different, always known something wasn't 'normal' about her, and his explanation had certainly made Lily feel less afraid… Especially considering the alternative was less than favourable.

Humming to herself, eyes darting around the platform, Lily was taking in every sight, every sound, every smell she possibly could. This was her world now - she belonged with them, _to them_. For the first time in her life, Lily felt genuinely excited about her abilities. And for the first time, with her entire being, she truly believed Severus when he'd told her she was magical.

"Don't want to forget this, d'you?" Mr. Evans laughed, interrupting her thoughts as he held up Lily's wand pointedly.

In all of the haste and excitement, she'd handed it off to him without a second glance. Truth be told, Lily had been far more excited about the familiar they'd purchased for her last week in Diagon Alley; she'd never been allowed a pet before and a piece of wood paled in comparison to her new cat, at least temporarily.

"Thanks, dad, s'pose I do need that… Is it almost time? I think it's - Tuney?" Lily turned to look at her sister, tucking her wand into an empty pocket. She'd heard a little whimper, only to realize her sister was crying - again.

Lily's parents exchanged a wordless look, her mother quickly coming around to wrap an arm about Petunia's shoulders comfortingly. For the last two days Petunia had been crying on and off, the girl an emotional wreck in the wake of her sister's departure.

Violet Evans had seen her daughter fall to pieces the day Professor Dumbledore had come around, asking for Lily but not for the eldest Evans girl. Petunia did not handle rejection very well, much less being pushed aside in lieu of her younger sister. She'd begged and pleaded to go along, even imploring the shopkeeper in Ollivander's to sell her a wand also. Petunia had thumbed eagerly through Lily's textbooks, ran a hand longingly over her sister's cauldron and scales, desperately hoping Dumbledore would return to collect her too.

The only thing Petunia hadn't done was come to terms with the fact that she wasn't meant for Hogwarts. She wasn't accepted, nor was she even wanted - Petunia Evans was to remain behind, while her sister went off on an adventure without her.

She just simply wasn't magical.

Lily had taken the news equally badly, though in her own way. She'd let Petunia try out her new wand, only to be confused when it didn't produce the same pretty blue sparks that it did for her when Petunia had waved it about. She'd let Petunia borrow her textbooks, the two of them reading late into the night together underneath a blanket, whispering spells to each other. She'd even insisted that her mother purchase an extra set of robes and uniforms for her older sister, in preparation for the time when Petunia's letter inevitably came.

Petunia refused to believe that Lily was going to leave her behind and Lily refused to understand that was how it was meant to be. They were, after all, sisters - they did everything together.

As she looked on, the sound of her sister crying almost broke Lily in two. She watched the tears fall, sloppily staining Petunia's cheeks, and suddenly she felt overwhelmed with guilt. "I'm sorry, Tuney, I'm sorry! Listen - maybe once I'm there - no, listen, Tuney!" Lily reached out for her but Petunia pulled away, hiccuping loudly. "Maybe once I'm there, I'll be able to go to Professor Dumbledore and persuade him to change his mind!"

Petunia stepped back, determined to distance herself from her little sister. She could see Lily's distress but oddly it only served to anger her further. " I don't - want - to - go!" She spat through her hiccups, shoulders heaving. "You think I want to go to some stupid castle and learn to be a - a - you think I want to be a - a freak?"

Lily blinked, shocked into silence. Petunia had whispered that word around her before, taunting her when their mother's back was turned, but never had she said it so hatefully, so full of venom. Lily could only watch her sister, heart fully broken now, and desperately wish the roles were reversed. Why could it not have been Tuney who had gotten the letter? Lily would have accepted it, even understood eventually, but Petunia would never forgive her - Lily could see that now.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, wrapping her arms around her waist as Petunia merely looked at her, almost through her, with blank eyes. Accepting magic was costing Lily a sister - a sister who turned on her heel and walked away, abandoning Lily at the start of what would be her life's greatest adventure.

"Petunia!" Mrs. Evans started, wringing her hands as she looked hurriedly between Lily and her other daughter's departing back. _"Petunia Evans!"_

"Go," Mr. Evans urged his wife, glancing at Lily with furrowed brows. He had expected Petunia to get upset but this was beyond acceptable. "She's bound to get lost, Vi - she doesn't know the station, or the city, for that matter."

Violet nodded and turned, quickly sweeping Lily up into a tight hug. "I'm sorry, darling - she'll come around, I promise. Have a marvelous year," She leaned back, pushing away Lily's hair from her face as she brushed her lips against the girl's forehead. "I love you so much, don't you forget that - I just know you'll do wonderfully."

And with that her mother was gone, Violet's cream colored coat disappearing into the crowds of strangers as she ran off after Petunia. Mr. Evans looked sympathetically to his youngest, pulling her into the crook of his arm as he ran a hand over her hair, leaving a gentle kiss at the crown of her head.

"Never forget how brilliant you are, Lily." He said quietly, pride evident in his voice. He couldn't comment on what had just happened - nothing he could say would make it better, not now - but he also couldn't let Lily see just how much it pained him to watch his girls grow apart.

"I love you," Lily murmured into him, the soft wool of his jumper comforting against her cheek. "I'm going to miss you all so very much. Please tell her that, and often - tell her that I wanted to say goodbye and that I understand. I truly do - I know she just wanted to come too."

"I will, Lil." He closed his eyes as she hugged him tightly, yet again impressed by the strength embodied in his magnificent little girl. He'd held her, loved her for eleven years, and yet the purity of her kindness never failed to surprise him. "I'll tell her."

"You should catch up to mum." Lily pulled back, collecting herself. She looked to the ground, twisting her hands together. "If she can't find her, mum will be going crazy - she'll need you."

Mr. Evans smiled one last time, the sentiment not quite reaching his eyes, and he sadly tweaked Lily's chin as he kissed her cheek. "Just a few short months til Christmas, darling. We'll miss you terribly but it's going to fly by, I promise."

Moments later her father too was gone, hands stuffed deep into his coat pockets, shoulders somewhat deflated as he headed swiftly towards the exit and the dramatics that lay beyond. Lily watched him go until she lost all sight of him, holding onto her luggage with one hand and making a fist with the other as she willed herself not to cry. Lily felt more alone than she ever had before, a lost child standing on the platform, waiting for someone to come collect her and tell her everything would be okay.

But no one would come. She knew that now.

Just as Lily knew, deep in her heart, that she would be okay.

Glancing over to her luggage, Lily pulled her trunk closer, thinking of all the things the leather case held inside; all of the potentials, all of the learning she would do in the next seven years. She looked at her cat carrier, the small calico inside mewing softly as he tried to reach her fingers, and she gathered herself up. Squaring her shoulders, wiping a few stray tears from her dark green eyes, Lily started through the crowds.

Heading directly for the train, she only paused once, running into a dark haired boy her age as she struggled to make her way through the families and luggage trollies. Apologizing hastily, she barely registered his presence as a trunk bumped into her, too distracted to notice the pain in her shin as she began to search in vain for Severus. Surely he was around here somewhere…

It was time to go home. Her new home, whatever that may be.

 **Author's Note:** Hope you enjoyed the first installment. This is the first part of several introductions (eep!) - originally, I had intended for the train scene to be one long chapter but eventually, it simply got to be way too much. Therefore, I've split it into five parts: James/Lily, Sirius/Emmeline, Frank/Alice, Remus/Dorcas/Mary, Severus, and Marlene/Peter. I know, I know, longest introduction ever. Oops.

Hang in there with me, I promise it'll be worth the wait. Please review, I'd love to know your thoughts and comments about what's to come…

\- Charlie


	2. Sirius, Emmeline & Frank

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own nor make any claims to anything Harry Potter related. This story is entirely my own creation and it is merely the nonsensical ramblings of an idle author._

 **September 1, 1971**

 **Introduction: Sirius Black, Emmeline Vance & Frank Longbottom**

"Reg, c'mon…" Sirius Black did his best to gently extract himself from his brother's grasp, failing miserably. Regulus was determined, clutching onto his older brother as if for dear life. The day had finally come for Sirius to leave home - while one brother was refusing to accept the fact, the other was covertly ecstatic.

Eleven years.

Sirius had waited eleven long, excruciating years to escape the House of Black.

And he wasn't about to turn down the opportunity, not for anything in the world. Unfortunately, that also applied to his brother, though surely Regulus would eventually understand. He'd always been the favorite, the spoiled one; if anyone knew the true depths of Sirius' constant unhappiness, it was Regulus. He would understand - he'd have to.

"Regulus Arcturus Black." Walburga Black seethed, her tone dangerous. "You're acting like an absolute fool. Let go of him before someone sees you."

Shooting his mother a look of utter disdain, Sirius leaned back to meet Regulus eye to eye, coming down to his level. His brother's sudden need for him was bewildering but when he saw the fear in Reg's eyes, Sirius knew; he'd experienced enough fear in his short lifetime to recognize it immediately.

"Two years." He murmured, quietly enough that their mother couldn't overhear. "Two years and then you'll be free, too - you can do it, Reg. Don't let them win."

Regulus searched Sirius' face, struggling to find the strength he needed to say goodbye. He could see his brother grappling with the thought of condemning such a little boy to the stifling confines of 12 Grimmauld Place, for they both knew Regulus would break.

Neither would say it out loud but they both knew it - he was simply not Sirius.

He did not have his brother's strength, nor his stubborn determination to prove their parents wrong. Regulus could not fight back against them, nor against their ways; he'd always thrived on their approval, while Sirius revelled in their displeasure. Both had developed entirely different coping mechanisms throughout their complicated childhoods. Regulus never had been able to stomach the criticism or snide remarks that were the inevitable consequences of disappointing the Black family elders.

Regulus would lose.

And he didn't know if his brother would ever come back to pick up the pieces.

"Take me with you." He whispered softly, unable to resist making one final plea. Silently, he was imploring, even begging his brother to stay, though the nine year old knew it was impossible. Even if Sirius had the option to remain behind, Regulus knew he most certainly wouldn't choose to. He'd been planning his exit for years now.

Over Regulus' shoulder, Sirius spotted their mother pressing her lips together, her long, spidery fingers clutching onto the handles of a leather pocketbook so tightly that the whites of her knuckles were beginning to show. Sirius couldn't recall the last time he'd seen her smile; Walburga Black usually preferred the more dignified expressions of disgust and detest, so much so he'd began to suspect her facial muscles had been frozen in that position long before his birth.

"Two years." Regulus finally murmured, pardoning Sirius from having to disappoint him one last time. His shoulders slouched in defeat as he accepted that it was indeed time for Sirius to leave. Releasing his brother slowly, Regulus stepped back to obediently (albeit reluctantly) take his customary spot next to their mother.

Walburga gave her youngest a long, cold stare; they would most certainly be having a discussion later about his conduct. She would not stand for her children to embarrass her in public - when they were in her presence, they did not have the freedom to think for themselves, least of all defy an explicit order.

Clearing her throat quietly, she eventually looked back to Sirius, expression blank. "When you falter, when others are tempting you to forget who you are, remember where you came from, Sirius." Walburga pushed a neatly folded piece of parchment into his palm. "You are a Black. There are expectations to fulfill - don't think that you can run away from them forever."

Sirius turned the paper over. It looked faintly familiar, something archaic he vaguely recalled paying no attention to in his younger years. Suspiciously, he looked to Walburga, not a bit interested in opening it before her. "Right." He adjusted the strap of the worn leather pack slung over his shoulder, motioning to the waiting train with a jerk of his thumb. "I'll be off then."

"Sirius!"

He distinctly heard outrage reflected in the sharpness of her voice but Sirius didn't pause to acknowledge it. He'd already turned his back to her, striding off purposefully into the crowds. Truthfully, he didn't see why she would be upset, for it wasn't as though Walburga had an emotional goodbye planned for him. The woman didn't have a maternal bone in her body.

As he hopped aboard the Hogwarts Express, Sirius paused for one final backwards glance, catching a flash of Regulus before the two disapparated off of the platform. It would be years before Sirius forgot the mournful look of despair as Regulus found himself alone in the world, seemingly abandoned by the one he loved most. Sirius would remember it every so often, almost guiltily, until the memory was replaced with the person that Regulus would inevitably become.

Sirius glanced down at the parchment, unfolding it slowly. The sheet was covered in scribbles, well known names intertwined amongst an impressive family crest: he held in his palm the esteemed House of Black. His lineage, in all of its black and white glory, had been his mother's parting gift - not a warm embrace, not words of encouragement, but instead a reminder of what their name represented.

For a moment, all Sirius could manage was to stare at it. Walburga Black was so determined for him to not tarnish their reputation that she'd ripped the page straight from the family register, paying no heed to the fact that there was now a volume in their extensive library only partially complete. His fingers began to move, slowly at first, then faster as he deftly tucked and folded the parchment. Sliding his thumb down the final seam, Sirius smiled slightly at his masterpiece; he'd always had a knack for making airplanes out of practically anything.

Popping open one of the train's windows, he closed an eye and aimed experimentally, gaze falling on a short brunette standing near the platform's edge. It was her long hair that had initially garnered his attention, for it caught the sunlight just so, and he paused until she finally turned around.

Tilting the paper plane off to the side momentarily, he looked on as the girl observed her parents, an unusually calm look about the femme. He could see the tears in her mother's eyes, sense the love in the way her father held onto her hand. Sirius had witnessed those emotions before on very rare occasions in his own mother's eyes - and, time after time, they'd always been reserved for Regulus. The youngest Black had always been the favorite, especially when it came to their overbearing father.

Without hesitation, Sirius cocked his arm and released the airplane, letting it soar out above the crowds. He didn't bother to stick around long enough to spy where it landed. Much like his actual kin, a mere scrap of the family tree didn't hold much significance to him - not anymore.

He strode down the corridor, slipping his hands into his pockets as he carefully peered into the compartment windows. Everyone seemed to be congregating, houses and old friends reuniting, and it made him feel uncharacteristically lonely. Sirius knew a great deal of other wizarding children, for all of the old families had grown up together - he'd even attended etiquette classes with a select handful.

And yet, he had absolutely no urge to seek them out. Surely they'd all gathered together by now, exchanging stories about their holidays abroad and maintaining a safe distance from any blood traitors that might wander past.

How terribly exciting.

Shuddering at the possibility of them stumbling upon him first, Sirius rounded a corner, lost in his thoughts. Almost instantly he ran into another boy, letting out a surprised howl as they smacked headfirst into each other.

"Well, that's one way to introduce yourself." Sirius remarked wryly, rubbing his forehead. His grey eyes danced, though, for he was more amused by the intrusion on his personal space than offended by it.

"How d'you know that wasn't my intention all along?" The lanky boy rubbed comically at his own head, wrinkling his nose. Yet, he regarded Sirius amicably, not realizing he was now sporting a bright red mark just below his hairline.

"What's that in your hair?" Sirius scrunched up his face as he looked the fellow student over, suddenly reaching up and wiping at something sticky on his forehead. "It's all shiny and.. stuff." Curiously, he glanced down at his hand, spotting the remains of a slick potion on his fingertips.

"Oh, bugger - sorry, it's Sleekeazy's…" James muttered, glancing over at Sirius guiltily. "My dad, we're Potters - it's, um, sort of the family business... Does it look awful?"

Sirius observed the boy, quickly making the connection between himself and the Potter kid. It seemed they both came from considerable wealth; Sirius could remember seeing a bottle of the potion on his father's dressing table before.

"It does look rather pretentious." He finally settled on, speaking with as much as authority as his eleven year old self could muster.

"I _knew_ I looked like a right prat." James sighed heavily, turning to study his reflection in the window. He caught sight of Sirius next to him, noting his tousled, carefree hairstyle, and frowned deeply. Reaching up, James ruffled his own hair, experimentally at first and then with much more enthusiasm. "Better?" He asked, looking back to Sirius.

Nodding approvingly, Sirius crossed his arms. "Much."

"Thanks, mate." James breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, should I just call you Potter?" Sirius asked jokingly. "Or do you perhaps go by anything less formal?" The boy had practically smashed his nose in, after all - Sirius felt it only right that they should be properly introduced.

"James." He quickly offered, smiling widely. James ran a hand through his hair one last time for good measure, almost unconsciously this go around, and suddenly he felt less alone. There was no longer a reason to feel unsure, not with a friend beside him now.

"Sirius." He returned the boy's grin, something surprisingly natural about the ease he felt just being around James.

Inexplicably, Sirius immediately forgot about his family, their less than heartwarming parting, even the family tree - for the first time that morning, he felt truly and wholly excited. It was the start of an adventure, for that very moment was the start of a new life.

It was his beginning.

* * *

An unexpected breeze against her cheek startled Emmeline Vance and she looked up, reaching out automatically to grab at the offending paper airplane flying past. Her fingers crumpled around the parchment, gaze curious as she turned to search the crowds for its owner. However, the station was far too hectic to make sense of anything at all. Only a pair of striking grey eyes lingered in her line of sight before disappearing almost immediately and so she turned, looking back to her parents hesitantly.

"I promise to write every week." She offered, brushing the wrinkles from her skirt.

"Twice a week would probably be best." Her mother reached over to adjust the collar of her daughter's robes, tucking it neatly into place with a gentle pat.

"Easy, Celeste. She'll be busy," Her father's face was unusually stoic; saying goodbye to one's only child had that effect on a man. "Studying and whatnot, eh, Emmy?"

"Once a week, every week." Emmeline regarded her mother with a raised brow, expression resolute. Celeste Vance may have been the successful prosecutor in the family but her daughter often came in at a close second. "I can promise no more but certainly no less."

Her mother regarded her carefully, debating whether or not to argue. However, like any good lawyer, Celeste knew when to fall back and accept a verdict. "Fine." She pressed her lips together. "Once a week it is."

"Drop us a line after the sorting, love." Her father suddenly piped up, a glassy look about his eyes. "Tell us about the castle and… whatnot." He cleared his throat, twining a finger through the buttonhole on his breast pocket nervously.

Emmeline watched the emotions play out on her father's face, unnerved by what she saw; for as long as she'd known him, Liam Vance had been solid, emotionless, strong. Yet today, in the shadow of the Hogwarts Express, his facade was cracking. She knew it meant the world to him for her to be sorted into his former house, to follow in the Ravenclaw legacy established by so many Vances before her.

"Promise." She said quietly, smiling as he ruffled her hair.

Celeste watched the exchange, emotion welling up in her throat; as a Muggle, she felt completely unprepared for what was to come. To send her baby off somewhere she knew so little about and for the next seven years, at that; it was ludicrous, absolute lunacy. Granted, Mrs. Vance was certainly used to her husband's magic, even the little practical jokes he loved to play on her - though, after fifteen years, singing teapots were just as startling as the very first time - and so it seemed safe enough. But still…

As if sensing her mother's anxiety, Emmeline pointed across the platform. Just beyond, a familiar tall, kind faced boy stood, bidding his own goodbyes. "Besides, it's not as if I'll be all alone, Frank will be there and - _oh!_ "

In retrospect, she should have seen it coming, prepared for it even. However, the combined force of both parents was almost too much for the petite girl and Emmeline could practically feel them squishing the air out of her. Groaning loudly, protesting as they wrapped tightly around her, she waved her arms helplessly.

"You both do realize the train is leaving soon, correct? Yes? Just checking..."

* * *

Upon hearing his name, Frank Longbottom glanced over, meeting Emmeline's eyes just as she was engulfed in a tight embrace by both of her parents. He watched as she pulled a face at the overly dramatic goodbye, laughing heartily at her reaction.

The Vances had been close friends of the Longbottom family for nearly his entire life and Frank could scarcely remember a time without them in it. He had no sisters (or even brothers, for that matter) of his own and often treated Emmeline as one, much to her dismay - which naturally included poking fun at her.

"Liam isn't too keen on goodbyes, is he?" Frank's father laughed goodnaturedly, clapping an affectionate hand down on his wife's shoulder. He too had noticed Emmeline's less than pleased expression, quietly finding solace in the fact that he wasn't the only father struggling.

"Of course he isn't." Augusta regarded her husband with a slight shake of her head, not nearly as bemused as the other two. "You can't possibly enjoy saying goodbye to Frank every year, do you?"

"Certainly not, my darling." The senior Mr. Longbottom chuckled, ever the picture of mirth as he dutifully waited for her to finish fussing over their beloved boy.

Clucking her tongue disapprovingly, Augusta reached into her enormous handbag, withdrawing a pristine white handkerchief and quickly wetting the corner with her tongue. Frank, sensing what was coming, made a mad attempt to escape but was too slow for her well practiced movements.

"Mum! Stop, please - _mum_ , _seriously_ \- people can see!" Frank hissed, complaining beneath his breath as she firmly wiped at an invisible smudge on his cheek. He was a second year, for Merlin's sake, _a second year._ What was his mum thinking?

Pulling away, his dad's loud laughter ringing in his ears, Frank did his best to wriggle his way out of his mother's iron grip. Augusta Longbottom was a determined woman, though, and a strong one to boot; their twelve year old son was no match against her formidable frame.

"Frank, please - Merlin, hold still already, will you!"

"Mum, no - mum, stop!" Frank ducked down, eyes darting around the platform frantically. Strangers were indeed beginning to look over, some laughing, and he caught sight of one particular face in the crowd, stopping him in his tracks. The young girl offered him a kind smile, an understanding one at that, as she tucked a stray strand of short hair behind her ear. His stomach flipped, a warm feeling coming over him as he took in the simple action. Her pretty smile filled his mind, a most welcome sight amidst his mother's ongoing assault.

And yet, his distraction cost him, and Frank quickly lost of focus of the innocent girl with the boyish hair as Augusta descended upon him once again. Letting out a loud yelp, he felt her crushing arms wrap around him, drawing him closer as she tackled the other cheek with renewed fervor.

" _Mum!_ "

 **Author's Note:** Nearly halfway there - seven more introductions to go. Eep.

Thanks for coming back to read chapter two. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

xx Charlie

p.s. A HUGE thank you to my first two reviewers. Prowriter13 and Writingnerd291, you are so kind! Hope this update didn't disappoint. And for those of you who followed and favorited, I adore you too just as much. Promise.


	3. Alice, Remus, Dorcas & Mary

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own nor make any claims to anything Harry Potter related. This story is entirely my own creation and it is merely the nonsensical ramblings of an idle author._

 **September 1, 1971**

 **Introduction: Alice Prewett, Remus Lupin, Dorcas Meadowes & Mary MacDonald**

Alice Prewett bit back a wide smile, trying desperately not to laugh. As her parents and brothers and extended family chattered noisily around her, she idly watched the older boy wrestle with his mother across the platform. He didn't look more than a year or two her senior and he was clearly a Gryffindor, judging by his robes. Alice would meet him soon enough, that she knew for certain; mostly because she would accept no other house but Gryffindor and that was that. It was simply her destiny, for no other house was good enough for a Prewett - or so she had been told her entire life.

"Alice, say goodbye to your aunt and uncle. Charles, Benjamin - _come back here right this instant!_ "

Looking up at the sound of her name, Alice promptly forgot about the strange boy and his even stranger mother, for the sight of her large family was (and always would be) overwhelming. Off in the distance, her cousin Molly was crying - how she did hate saying goodbye to her parents, it was the same story every year - as her older brothers Fabian and Gideon did their best to distract her. Chuckling at their antics, Alice watched fondly as the twins fussed over their baby sister; they were good brothers, through and through, and would do anything for Molly. Alice had always rather liked that about them.

Not that her own older brothers were any different - though, at the moment the littlest Prewett was the least of the boy's concern. Charles and Benjamin were far more interested in reuniting with their mates, particularly those of the female variety, as their mother futilely attempted to wrangle up the family for one final farewell.

"G'bye, dad." Alice stood up on her tiptoes, wrapping her slender arms around her father's waist. It was time to get going and she knew it.

"Goodbye, my sweet girl." Her father dropped a kiss on the top of her head, returning the hug firmly. He'd miss her something awful; Mr. Prewett would never admit it but he worried a great deal about the gentle, shy girl. Alice could be so withdrawn, so fundamentally unlike her cousins, and he wanted nothing more than for her to find a place at Hogwarts. To find herself even, perhaps.

"See you at Christmas, then?" Alice reached for the carrier holding her tabby cat, grateful for the opportunity to take along one of the family pets. Waving a hurried adieu to her aunt and uncle, not wanting to interrupt as they escorted a sniffling Molly towards the train, Alice felt her mother's presence behind her and turned into her waiting embrace.

"Have you got the cat, then? Luggage? Blimey, I think I forgot your toothbrush-"

"Packed, first thing this morning."

"A little spending money is in your cloak, along with some cat treats-"

"Thanks, mum." Alice quieted her mother with a tight squeeze, for the older woman was practically radiating with energy. As the youngest, though, Alice was used to being fussed over.

Little Alice was the third and last child she'd seen off on the Express, yet it was doing nothing to ease the Prewett matriarch's mind. Reaching into her coat pocket, Alice's mother quickly pulled a piece of parchment out and slipped it into her daughter's palm. "This is Aunt Eugenia's address - I know the owl can usually find it but just in case, we'll be there only a fortnight or so. But do write, let us know how things are getting on your first day-"

"Certainly," Alice heard the whistle sound loudly and she glanced backwards, seeing her brothers hurrying onto the train. The time had come. "Goodbye, mum - love you, see you at Christmas!" In a rush, she began to push through the crowds, cradling the cat to her chest.

Briefly she looked back, finding her parents already lost in the mob, only to jump in surprise when the pistons of the train expelled an enormous gust of air nearby. The paper she'd been holding onto fluttered to the ground and Alice struggled to reach for it, eyes wide as she began to lose sight of it beneath people's feet. "Excuse me, please - oh, excuse me, I -"

Just as suddenly the paper vanished, only to reappear in front of her. A small hand timidly held it out, a boy's face coming into view. "Does this belong to you?" He asked shyly.

"Yes, thank you - thank you so very much!" Alice grinned widely, reaching for the parchment in relief. The boy smiled graciously in return, a friendly air about him, but even in the chaos Alice felt something different about the fellow student. He seemed uncomfortable amongst all the people, unsure of where to look, and she found her gaze being drawn to the large scar winding across his left cheek.

But before she could ask his name, the boy waved one last time and hurried off, disappearing mysteriously into the masses. The train whistled for a second time, interrupting her thoughts, and Alice tucked the paper into her pocket securely, determined not to lose it again.

She had a train to catch, after all.

* * *

He'd never seen such a genuine smile before.

Almost childishly, it completely brightened up her entire face, highlighting her brown eyes in the most remarkable fashion and it made him feel calm. In spite of the chaos, over the clanging of the train and yells of the busy porters, the moment she smiled the boy felt at ease. Immediately he knew the short haired girl had seen his scar, for he'd felt her gaze travel its length, but it hadn't appeared to faze her.

Not in the least. Rather, she'd smiled at him - _because_ of him.

It was a new sensation for the lonely boy. It was encouraging.

"Remus - Remus, love, let's get going!"

Hope Lupin's voice carried over the platform, bringing her son back to reality. Remus Lupin offered the friendly girl one final wave before he turned and hurried back to meet his mother and father, hoping they hadn't noticed his slight diversion.

Waiting patiently, Lyall held a small wooden cage in his hands, a nervous toad hiding inside. The senior Mr. Lupin still didn't understand his son's resistance towards them purchasing him an owl; anyone could see that it was a much more practical choice than the mundane pet Remus had rescued from the garden. Had Lyall not seen Remus' utmost devotion to the animal, though, he would've secretly released it back into the yard while the boy was sleeping. However, Lyall was also clever enough to recognize that would not only bring about his son's wrath but also that of a certain Mrs. Lupin.

Needless to say, their son had inherited his short temper from someone and it decidedly was not Lyall.

Mr. Lupin's better (and significantly more charming) half was at his side, fussing anxiously with Remus' trunk. She'd somehow gotten it into her head that something quite vital had been left behind at the house, though Lyall knew it was only her nerves at work. Hope had packed and repacked their son's belongings at least once a day for the past week - the only thing she'd hadn't manage to include amongst his prized school supplies was herself.

Regardless, he silently let Hope fret, smiling affectionately as she blew a few wisps of long chestnut hair from her eyes. Her cheeks were faintly pink from her efforts and Lyall reached over to tuck the loose strands behind her ear affectionately.

Remus arrived just in time to witness the tender exchange, comforted somewhat as his mother's shoulders visibly relaxed. She'd been wound up so tightly since the day Dumbledore had arrived and nothing seemed to diminish Hope's stress, not entirely.

"Mum, you've checked it three times already." Remus teased her lightly, removing the trunk from her fidgety grasp with an easy laugh.

"I know that." Hope bit her lip, rubbing her hands together. Clucking her tongue, she glanced down to the little cage. "But you know, love, now that I think about it, I'd feel much better if you were taking an owl along with you…"

Lyall dutifully remained quiet, merely looking down to the toad as he held his tongue. No one had taken his suggestion seriously last month in Diagon Alley and he wasn't about to offer it up again.

"But mum, I like him-"

"Remus, it's not as if he can bring us a letter-"

"He almost died! I can't let him go, not now-"

"Remus, it's not as if he'll be around forever." Lyall interrupted the argument, motioning to the toad. A strange silence met him and he glanced up to see Remus' look of pure horror - and just over his son's shoulder, Hope's deadly glare. Clearing his throat, Lyall cradled the animal and backpedaled. "Toads - they, uh, get lost easily at Hogwarts, son. He'll probably wander off before you know it."

Remus' head snapped up, looking pleadingly to his mother for guidance.

"I'm sure he'll make friends if he does." Lyall finished weakly, doing his best not to meet Hope's narrowed eyes. _Bollocks_.

"What your father meant to say is that one day - in the very, very, _very_ distant future - you may find yourself in need of another pet." Hope spoke up, shaking her head at her husband's feeble attempts to cover up his slip of the tongue. "And _then_ perhaps you'll consider getting an owl, love."

"In the future." Lyall echoed firmly, patting Remus' head. "Distant future."

Hope pulled a mocking face at her husband over their son's head, playfully teasing Lyall as she couldn't help but pull the two of them close. She was doing her best to deny it, to not let Remus see just how much it pained her to send him off to school.

He was and always would be her little boy - coming to terms with the fact that the world Remus now belonged to rejected his very existence simply destroyed her. The older Remus got, the closer her time with him came to an end. Hope, despite her best intentions, wouldn't be able to protect her son the way he would need her to.

Sending him off to school was only the first step down that unknown path.

As if picking up on his mother's inner thoughts, Remus returned her comforting embrace, resting his head against her shoulder. His own thoughts were picking at him, uncertainty swirling about in his mind. He was so incredibly elated to go to Hogwarts and yet there was a nagging voice in his subconscious, memories of all the places they'd had to flee before someone got too close to learning the truth. In his short childhood, Remus had never been able to establish a real home or even a sense of community.

His parents had been - and were - the only constant in his life.

And now he was leaving them behind.

"You don't think anyone will notice... do you?" Remus' words tapered off, his face painfully innocent as he implored his parents for validation.

Hope glanced over to Lyall, her heart crumbling at Remus' line of questioning. Oh, her quiet, funny boy; she would give the world for people to look past his circumstances and only see his kind heart. Reaching out, Hope ran a thumb down his pale cheek, unconsciously sliding her finger across an old scar as she cradled his face in her palms.

"Someone might." She whispered gently, unable to lie to her son. "But never forget, Remus, that this does not define who you are. What happens is just a _part_ of you, not _only_ you."

Remus could see the tears building up in his mother's eyes, desperately wishing that he wasn't the cause of so much worry. Everything still felt surreal - as if he actually wasn't destined for Hogwarts, as if Dumbledore had made a giant mistake.

Surely someone would recognize a lycanthrope amongst the smiley faced students and send him packing - or worse. Not even his parents had been able to disguise that it was no secret Remus would not be welcome should his true identity be exposed, despite the Headmaster's wishes.

"Dumbledore will watch over you. He will help you… manage." Lyall leaned in, resting his hand on Remus' shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. Ever the voice of reason, he spoke logically while Hope spoke from her heart. "Put your faith in Professor Dumbledore, Remus - we all must."

Remus nodded uncertainly, glancing around the platform. So many other children were saying goodbye to their parents, hugging their misty eyed aunts, uncles, and grandparents in preparation to depart. Remus could see the nervousness in their young faces and he shared in their fears about the future; unlike them, though, he knew so much more lay ahead for him.

"I love you." He murmured, content to stay in his parent's arms just a few seconds longer.

"The train is leaving soon, son." Lyall wiped inconspicuously at his eyes, Hope dabbing at her own with an old bit of lace. "It's time to board."

Remus pulled back, pretending not to notice their tears. Clearing his throat, he patiently waited as his mother planted one last kiss on his forehead, then two, and pulled his trunk close. He would never forget the sacrifice it took to let him go that day, to let him enter a hostile and strange world beyond their control.

And so Remus left with their blessings, though only after pausing to watch them exit the hectic station arm-in-arm. He knew his mother was crying, for she didn't turn around again, but his father did, offering one last lopsided smile. Remus had waited around for several moments after their backs had disappeared into the throngs, indulging a few nostalgic sentiments before he eventually started for the train.

Just as he began moving, though, Remus paused and glanced up. It had been as if someone had tapped his shoulder, whispered in his ear to catch his attention. He could feel a distinct pair of eyes on him, watching his every movement, and after a second he spotted them amongst the sea of strangers.

For the briefest of moments, Remus was shaken. _Could she tell? Did she know?_

But then he stopped, refusing to let his mind wander freely. There was no stamp on him, no obvious outside indicator that he was a werewolf. He was alone but he was safe.

For the first time in his life, he was safe.

And so he smiled, slowly at first, then wider as he felt his confidence return. Remus saw no malice in her green eyes, no accusations but only curiosity - simple, non-threatening curiosity. For now he would embrace that, pray that nothing or no one would turn against him for the next seven years.

He could do this.

He could keep his secret - because, in his heart, Remus knew he had no choice.

Turning on his heel, Remus pushed the inquisitive girl from his mind and grinned to himself as he felt the excitement bubble up inside of him: he was going to school. For once, Remus would be around children his own age - he would actually live in the same place for longer than a few months.

He would have _friends._

Friends of his very own - no one could ever understand how much it had grieved him over the years to be denied such a basic right. As he wove through the onboarding passengers, dodging wobbly luggage trolleys, the smile never left his face. His life as Remus John Lupin, not just simply Remus the werewolf, was finally beginning and he had never felt so optimistic, so unbelievably overjoyed in his whole life.

He'd never felt so complete.

* * *

"... and so I told her I just simply had to get a new broom, because - Dorcas?"

 _What an unusual boy._ The soft-spoken girl couldn't help but wonder where he'd gotten the scar from, for it was such a distinctive one, going across his face like that. He had the look of someone who had been sick recently: a little tired around the eyes, shoulders slumped ever so slightly. And yet, he was also undeniably pleasant to look at, very much like his beautiful mother - at least, that's whom the onlooker assumed had been the one hugging him goodbye on the platform seconds earlier.

There was something about the stranger that reminded the girl of herself, something both familiar and yet entirely unique about the way which he held himself. Brushing a few stray strands of hair away, long wavy tresses the precise color of a freshly peeled banana, her green eyes widened as the boy unexpectedly turned and looked directly at her.

Breath catching in her throat, she found herself unsure of what to do; if she glanced away quickly, he'd immediately see she'd been watching him. So she settled for the alternative, brazenly maintaining his gaze as people pushed and knocked about in the chaos to board the train. He watched her silently, finally breaking the obvious tension as a slow smile illuminated his clean-cut features. Then the boy turned, rejoining the crowd as it began to shift, and he disappeared into the masses.

And the moment was over.

 _"Dorcas?"_

The fair-haired girl startled, instantly recognizing by her friend's irate tone that this wasn't the first time her name had been called; or the third even, if her decidedly disapproving frown was any indication. Clearing her throat delicately, Dorcas Meadowes tore her eyes away from the bustling station and blushed ever so faintly. "I'm sorry, Mary. I don't know where my mind was at - what were you saying?"

Mary MacDonald glanced to the window, already having deduced exactly what was distracting her childhood pal so thoroughly. She too had seen the unknown boy and witnessed the look they'd exchanged through the glass. Frown only deepening, Mary pursed her lips together tightly; she had little time (or care) for boys. They were terribly loud, not to mention obnoxious, and she thoroughly resented the fact that she'd been forced to cohabitate with three younger brothers for the past eight years.

She absolutely, positively, and undoubtedly did _not_ see the appeal.

"Nevermind," Mary replied, though not unkindly; the conversation truly hadn't been all that intriguing in the first place, she could see that now. Leaning back into her chair, she swung her long legs up onto the cushions. "Are you nervous?" She asked suddenly.

Dorcas smiled sympathetically, hearing the hint of fear in Mary's voice. She'd known Mary long enough to recognize that blurting out one's emotions was quite a well established habit of the MacDonald clan. "Not very," She replied. "Not about school. I'm worried I'll miss my mum a lot, though."

"Christmas _is_ a long time off," Mary murmured in agreement. She'd most certainly miss her parents but as for her brothers, well, she was determined to enjoy the next two years before the oldest of the three monsters joined her at Hogwarts.

"Are you?" Dorcas returned conversationally, pulling her legs up onto the seat and resting her chin atop her knees. "About school, I mean?"

"A little." Mary admitted after a brief hesitation. "I'm worried it's going to be too difficult." The conversation lulled for a bit, an unspoken truth hanging above them: Mary's acceptance letter had taken longer than most to arrive. So much longer, in fact, that her parents had begun to worry she was a Squib.

"Mary MacDonald, stop being foolish. We both know you're a witch, no doubt about it." Dorcas admonished her sternly, shooting Mary a disapproving look. "The first letter must've gotten lost in the post or something."

"Probably," Mary conceded, her voice quiet as she glanced out the window.

Dorcas frowned, feeling guilty for what must have been the thousandth time since the summer holidays. The very moment she'd received her letter, she had raced out of her family's modest little cottage and down the stone path, making a beeline for the MacDonald's home just up the way. Mary's mother answered the door only to see Dorcas practically fall into the house, cradling her youngest son in her arms as she laughed heartily. The baby-faced witch had shouted a rushed apology as she ran up the stairs, long blonde hair streaming out behind her like a cape as she headed straight for Mary's room.

Dorcas had been so ecstatic she'd barely noticed Mary's apprehension, barely noticed the way her dearest friend's eyes anxiously flickered to the sky every few moments. Days passed, almost an agonizing full two weeks before the MacDonalds heard the telltale sign of an owl pecking at the window pane. Mary's confidence, in the meanwhile, had taken a huge blow. In fact, she'd already resigned herself to the thought that she wasn't actually destined for Hogwarts after all.

And yet, here she was, uniform packed and wand at her side.

Refusing to let the brunette wallow in the horrible memories of what could have been, Dorcas reached into her pocket and withdrew a sherbert lemon. Tossing the brightly wrapped sweet across the aisle to Mary, she held onto one for herself. "What house do you reckon we'll be sorted into?"

"Gryffindor, probably?" Mary mused, unwrapping the candy eagerly. "Don't wizards usually get sorted into the same house as their parents?"

Dorcas shrugged, considering it seriously. She knew her dad would be most pleased if that were the case. "Usually, I suppose... But my mum was a Ravenclaw. What do you think the Hat is going to make of that?"

Mary waved a hand dismissively. "It'll be Gryffindor, for certain." She said firmly. She refused to believe that the Sorting Hat would split up two best friends, much less two whom had known each other since birth. "Don't worry. We'll both make it onto the Quidditch team, share a dormitory, and be positively sick of each other by graduation."

Dorcas chuckled at the prospect, all the while quietly wishing she could join in Mary's unwavering confidence about the whole situation. The more and more she thought about it, though, there was something about Gryffindor that just didn't feel… right. Moving to speak, Dorcas had just opened her mouth when a nearby door slammed shut with an impressive force.

The girls looked up, startled as the glass panes in the cabin rattled ominously. A girl's voice could be heard, a quiet, pleading tone that sounded equally both parts distressed and embarrassed. The girls jumped as a dark haired boy stormed by, robes billowing about his ankles as he hurried past. His face was screwed up into a dramatic scowl, so very severe looking, and Dorcas couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by his presence.

Within seconds, a much shorter girl ran after him, obviously struggling to keep up with his long strides. It was her voice that they had heard moments before, for she was calling after him, almost out of breath from her endeavours.

The disruption lasted only moments, though, and Dorcas glanced back to Mary with a raised brow. Mary answered her surprised look with a roll of her eyes, making a face as she silently squashed Dorcas' worries in that way only a best friend could. Unlike Dorcas, Mary was not intimidated in the least; her immediate impression had been that the unpleasant boy was outright rude, treating the redheaded witch like that, and he simply wasn't worth wasting any more time on.

Chewing on the last tiny bit of her sweetie, Mary stretched her arms over her head and regarded Dorcas lazily. "Got another one of 'em I could have, Doe?"

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 _Ah._ Some of these characters might have had the most unremarkable introductions compared to all the rest but I sincerely hope you could sense just how very much I love them. Alice, with her pixie haircut and Remus, oh Remus... As for Dorcas and Mary, I do have to admit I'm quite partial to Ms. MacDonald. Look forward to her playing a fundamental role in the chapters to come.

Perhaps you'll even come to love her as much as I do, if that's possible.

Thank you so much for following, commenting, and coming back to read chapter three.

You all brighten up my day more than you can ever realize.

xx Charlie


	4. Severus

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own nor make any claims to anything Harry Potter related. This story is entirely my own creation and it is merely the nonsensical ramblings of an idle author._

 **September 1, 1971**

 **Introduction: Severus Snape**

He should have walked away.

Severus Snape could see that now, for everything was laid out painfully clear in hindsight; he shouldn't have let the pair get beneath his skin. Instead, though, he'd made enemies on his very first day and suddenly the prospect of the next seven years seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Would this be his future? Would this be his reality, day in and day out?

Imagining it left Snape feeling empty, a dark cloud hanging low above him.

* * *

 _Severus had spotted the two boys talking in the middle of the corridor, blocking his eventual path, but paid them no mind. He was too busy tugging along an old suitcase, wiping at his brow as he glanced over his shoulder._

 _Lily was a ways behind, having stopped to help another first year whose trunk had spilled open everywhere. She was laughing, nodding kindly at the embarrassed student as they knelt on the floor, scooping up piles of clothes. Lily, true to her nature, was folding the uniforms neatly, tucking socks and unmentionables into the pockets of the trunk as she joked and distracted the red-faced girl._

 _Returning to the task at hand, Severus yanked at the heavy piece of luggage, coming up slowly behind the pair. They were still talking, introducing themselves it appeared, and he distractedly caught the name Potter as he approached. They seemed to have no inclination to move out of the way and Severus groaned internally, stopping just behind the lanky, messy haired boy._

 _Sirius had not noticed Snape's arrival and instead regarded his new acquaintance interestedly, though he could already venture a guess as to what the answer would be: "Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"_

 _James lifted an invisible sword. "'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad." Severus made a small, disparaging noise behind them and James turned on him. "Got a problem with that?"_

* * *

More importantly, though, he should have kept Lily out of it.

He was supposed to protect her, to ensure that she transitioned into Hogwarts easily.

His feelings, his everything paled in comparison to her. She had done so much for him. Without her (or her family, for that matter) the last three years would have broken him. He never would've survived his father's cruel taunting or the neglect of his mother - perhaps she hadn't meant to forget about her only child so often, locked away in his room, but she did. Lily had been the only brightness in his life for quite some time now, his own personal source of sunshine and happiness.

The least Severus could do was watch over her.

* * *

 _"No," said Snape, though his sneer said otherwise. It was pathetic, this boy's desperate need to follow in his father's footsteps. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy-"_

 _"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" interjected Sirius. He had little patience for interruptions._

" _Preferably as far away as possible from swine like you." Severus shot back, more insulted by Sirius' offhanded remark than he cared to admit. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lily glance over at them and Severus swallowed deeply, a sinking feeling rising up in the pit of his stomach._

* * *

Lily had been the first one to see the bruises, dark painful marks covering his arms and legs.

Even at age nine, the meticulous little girl had immediately recognized that not all was right in her friend's world. And so she'd taken his hand, literally pulling him from the black hole that was his home and showed him a softer side of Cokeworth. She'd forced Severus to forget the bitter memories of his family life for a few hours at a time, caring for him in a way no one ever had before.

Snape decided then that he would be loyal to her until he no longer was capable, to honour the kindness she had so freely given.

She was his family - his _real_ family.

* * *

 _"Listen carefully," Sirius lowered his voice, looking disdainfully at Severus. All he saw was yet another blood purist, just more Slytherin scum spouting the ideals of a family he'd worked so hard to separate himself from and it infuriated him. "I think it's high time you moved along, before you make an even bigger fool of yourself."_

 _Severus looked at the other boy head on, narrowing his eyes. "You have no control over me." He matched Sirius' low tone, stepping uncomfortably close. "And you never will."_

 _Sirius' glare did not waver, though he obviously loathed the fact that Snape was only a few mere centimeters from him. "Why don't you actually do something useful, like wash that greasy hair of yours? It's disgusting."_

 _A cruel glint flickered in Sirius' cold grey eyes as he looked Severus up and down, gaze falling on the boy's tattered baggage. Written in large script was the name 'Severus Snape', a last minute maternal attempt by his mother. The letters were uneven and, unlike Severus' peers, not embossed or stamped in gold leaf but rather scribbled out with a black marker Eileen Snape had found lying about the house._

 _Sirius snorted, nudging James in the side as he raised his gaze gleefully. "Snivellus..." He whispered softly, chuckling. He looked Snape directly in the eye, repeating the word loud enough for Potter to hear:_

" _Snivellus."_

 _Severus was taken aback by the venom in Black's voice, face paling at the new nickname Sirius had granted him. Snivellus. The vile sound of it echoed in his ears, more and more repugnant every time he replayed it in his mind._

 _The only thing worse was James' laughter, ringing out loud and clear for all to hear._

* * *

Severus could recall the first day he'd seen Lily like no time had passed at all. Early that particular morning, he'd awoken to the sounds of his parents yelling, no doubt fighting over something trivial yet again. Quietly, he slipped out of bed and changed, not daring to wander downstairs in search of breakfast - not that there was likely any to be found, if it was to be a morning like any other.

In his haste to leave, though, Severus knocked over a vase of flowers his grandmother had brought over nearly a month prior. It had been a hollow gesture at bringing cheer and life into the household and yet the flowers had gone entirely unnoticed, suffering from lack of care just like so many other things in the home. Even years later, he could clearly remember the musty odor of the dried out roses, feel the petals crumbling to dust against his fingertips.

Severus had just barely managed to catch the vase, knocking his knee painfully (and loudly) into a nearby chest of drawers. He immediately held his breath, heart thumping as he nervously waited for the sound of heavy footsteps ascending the stairs. They never came, though, and instead he heard the crashing of a ceramic dish below and the yelling resumed once again.

Breathing out slowly, he shakily set the vessel back onto the dresser and moved towards the window, grabbing a threadbare coat before he pushed the screen aside.

* * *

 _As James' laughter subsided, Snape looked back again to Lily. Ever the perceptive one, Lily instantly saw the misery in her friend's expression and stood, studying the gathering of boys cautiously._

 _James stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, following Severus' gaze. "She's not like you. You do see that, right? Deep down, even you must be able to recognize that." He nodded off in the distance, watching as Lily started making her way down the hallway towards them. "She's better than your lot - she's different."_

 _"She is not!" Severus lost his cool for the first time, whipping his head around to snap at James. "We're friends - we're the same, her and I." He protested with absolute sincerity, almost desperate in his conviction._

 _"The same?" James looked to Snape in disbelief, laughing outright in his face. "The same? You're mad, y'know that?" He locked onto Lily's emerald stare as she hurried over, her almond shaped eyes taking on a worried look and James felt his heart unexpectedly skip a beat._

 _James stood by his words - he barely knew who Lily Evans was but he just... knew._

 _She was good and kind but this boy, this loathsome person, he was everything James despised. Slytherin could keep him; he'd probably flourish there anyways. "She's nothing like you - Snivellus." He finished, knowing Sirius' nickname would only serve to infuriate Snape even more._

" _She's never going to be a Slytherin."_

* * *

A large grassy park the next neighborhood over had always been Severus' favorite hiding place. It was far enough that his parents never bothered to check there when he disappeared (granted, the next house over was likely too far for Tobias and Eileen to search). Most importantly, though, it was well lit and clean enough for the young boy to feel safe in at all times of day - or night.

As the gravel crunched beneath his scuffed sneakers, she was the first thing he saw, a halo of red hair running across the knoll. She wore a faded green dress, a soft mossy color that complimented her coppery tresses. Her hair was loose and free, blowing in the breeze, and she was constantly pushing it away from her freckled cheeks. A distance away sat a statuesque woman, her delicate beauty openly reflected in the features of the little girl she was minding.

Severus watched the mother smile, at peace with the world as her daughter sprinted happily through the playground. He could hear the little one chattering away with an older girl, presumably a sister, her infectious laugh traveling on the wind and drowning out everything else.

Severus was immediately entranced by her, both by her smile and carefree attitude. He so desperately wished that even a minute trace of her happiness would transfer over to him; he craved it, for she was beautiful and mysterious and wonderful all at once.

He had been drawn to her from that very instant.

* * *

" _Sev?" Lily softly interrupted the quiet as she joined the group, her eyes traveling slowly from boy to boy until they came to rest upon her best friend. She could feel the tension in the air, see the strain on their faces; worried, she rested a hand on Severus' arm. "Is everything okay?"_

 _Severus lowered his eyes to her touch, skin tingling where her palm rested against his forearm. And then, for the first time, he felt it. He felt the separation between them, one he'd worked so hard to deny for years. It had been easy when it was just the two of them walking the streets of Spinner's End, playing late into the twilight at their beloved park._

 _But the balance had changed._

 _She was no longer alone, looking solely to him for guidance. The Potter boy was right: Lily was good, innocent, and pure in a way Severus had never been. She was generous, capable of things he never would be._

* * *

Severus hated that he had finally cracked.

He'd appeared weak before Lily, inexplicably given into the taunts of the two idiots and she'd witnessed everything. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, to see the shame in her eyes that she undoubtedly felt on his behalf. So instead he continued through the train, knowing full well that the petite witch couldn't match his long strides anymore - not since his growth spurt over the summer, that is.

As he swung open a door, paying no notice as to whom was on the other side, he promptly bumped into a girl standing nearby. He looked to her annoyedly, about to question her foolish decision to stand in the way when he surmised she'd been admiring her reflection in one of the many shiny surfaces. Scowling, he ignored her rude tone as she turned to confront him, blonde hair flying about wildly, and his gaze traveled south, resting on her lips.

Severus could see immediately she'd been applying lipstick. She held herself confidently, a beautiful person accustomed to beautiful things; this girl had never been teased a day in her life.

Somehow, that thought only made his blood boil even more and he pushed past her, clenching his fists as he swept through the narrow corridor.

He had no need for such people.

* * *

" _What did you two do?" The confusion was clearly evident on Lily's face as she turned to James and Sirius, looking to them accusingly._

 _James was inexplicably unable to look at her, completely unable to address the misery in her gaze and therefore he looked to the ground, shifting from foot to foot. Inside, though, he regretted nothing, for he knew he'd spoken the truth: Lily was and always would be one of them. James didn't know how he knew it, just that he did._

 _As for Sirius, he felt little remorse for what had just happened. Severus had insulted them and by trying to group Lily into Slytherin, he'd insulted her by default too. The Pure-blood could spot that Lily was a Muggleborn from across the room, and from the little he'd seen, she had a gentle heart. For the life of him, Sirius could not understand why Snape would not only encourage her to join up with that lot, much less desire it. He knew they would be unbelievably cruel to Lily, mock her mercilessly, and make her life at Hogwarts miserable should she enter the dungeons of Slytherin House._

 _Sirius knew it well, for he'd been raised to do so himself._

 _And so he didn't shy away from Lily's glare. Boldly, he watched as her emotions transitioned from worry, to sadness, and then finally settled on anger._

 _Her fists balled up at her sides and she shook her head. "Just leave us alone." She said furiously, pushing past them (only after knocking into James' shoulder for good measure) and hurried off after Severus._

* * *

Lily shouldn't have left him alone.

Severus could be so sensitive, and yet she wasn't naive, for she'd seen his true side enough to realize there was a darkness to him that he rarely showed to others. He'd been just as guilty as the other two arrogant morons, that much she could gather, but picking at him hardly seemed the most productive path to take.

She'd lecture him after he'd calmed down a bit, just like she always did.

"Severus!" She called, pushing through the crowded train cars and standing on her tiptoes to get a better look at him. He continued onwards, giving no outward indication that he'd actually heard her. She knew he had, though, because his pace was starting to slow ever so slightly. "Sev! Sev, wait for me - Severus!"

Up ahead, Severus closed his eyes, a useless attempt to force himself to calm down. Lily did not deserve his anger. Lily also did not deserve to see him upset, for he knew it would worry her; he hated worrying her. And yet, Severus had a difficult time controlling his anger towards the Potter boy and his crony - he just couldn't forget their mocking laughter, nor their apparent disgust.

"Sev!" A small hand closed around his wrist, jolting him out of his manic thoughts, and Severus stopped almost instantly. Hesitantly, he turned to see Lily, out of breath and frowning up at him.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" She asked, holding onto him securely. Lily wasn't about to chase him down again, not as the train was beginning to pull away from the station. The locomotive shuddered and shook as it came alive, leaving Lily to steady herself against him.

Despite his frustration, Severus instinctively reached out and firmly placed a hand on Lily's shoulder to ground her. Shooting him a small but grateful smile, she leaned back and looked up at him. "What happened back there?" She studied him carefully. "You just left - are you okay?"

Severus simply watched her for a long while, taking her in as his anger slowly dissipated. He could feel the anxiety, the need for revenge he'd felt moments earlier break apart and simply vanish. Lily had that effect on him, though he hardly doubted she realized it.

Eventually, he nodded and did his best to return her little smile. "Simple misunderstanding." He lied. "It's nothing important, I just lost my temper a bit."

Lily surveyed him and Severus could tell she was debating his words, trying to decide whether or not she should believe him. Her trusting disposition won out in the end, though, and she squeezed his hand supportively. "Let's find a compartment." She suggested, tugging him forward at a much slower pace that she could match.

Severus nodded obediently, trailing along as she tried to change the topic, babbling on about the first year she'd been helping - Anna, Alicia, something to that effect. Lily was enthusiastic at the promise of a new friend, her excitement practically bubbling over. Severus only partially listened, absently looking back over his shoulder, unable to dispel the resentful thoughts swirling around in his mind.

It was not over between them and Snape knew it.

Whatever had just occurred was the beginning of something, not the end. Severus hadn't seen the last of the Potter boy, that much he was certain about. And yet, as long as Lily was by his side, he could fight it off, control himself.

As long as Lily was with him, he would be content.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

It wasn't my original intention to grant Severus his own chapter. I'd barely had any ideas for his introduction, at least at the very beginning - and then as I began to write, I started to truly visualize (ahem, overanalyze) the first meeting between Snape and the Marauders. I've never written from his perspective before and I ended up getting swept away.

I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it. This chapter took me out of my comfort zone, both as a writer and also a fan of the books. It was a struggle to not only write but also to publish, because I'm not sure how anyone will react to my portrayal of him. Severus is such a complex character, I know I've barely scratched the surface. Be gentle.

Only **one** more introduction to go - Marlene and Peter are up next! Til next time...

xx Charlie


	5. Marlene & Peter

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own nor make any claims to anything Harry Potter related. This story is entirely my own creation and it is merely the nonsensical ramblings of an idle author._

 **September 1, 1971**

 **Introduction: Marlene McKinnon & Peter Pettigrew**

Marlene McKinnon was a well loved child and she made no apology for it.

Her long blonde tresses were neatly combed, plaited down to her waist and tied back primly with a silvery ribbon. She was already in uniform, the pleats of her skirt ironed into precise, straight lines and her button-down shirt crisply starched. Marlene looked the epitome of an innocent school girl, complete with large cerulean blue eyes and uncommonly long lashes.

She was a child most definitely used to being doted on, particularly by her parents; calling Marlene spoiled certainly wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination by any means. To boot, her brother Aidan was also (overly) protective of the pretty witch, a predilection that only grew with every passing year as more and more masculine glances were cast her way.

However, Aidan's time at Hogwarts would be up in two short years, much to his dismay; not that their five year age difference did much to quell his adoration of her but he would miss his baby sister dearly.

Quite frankly, Marlene was also accustomed to being doted on by complete strangers, her pouty smile and English rose complexion almost too much for most to resist. Marlene knew her true beauty extended far beyond a skin deep level and yet, even at age eleven, she was already fully aware of the advantages and blessings her good looks had bestowed upon her thus far.

But Marlene McKinnon was not vain.

She was also nobody's plaything, despite her doll-like appearance.

As she strode through the Hogwarts Express, Marlene yanked the ribbon from her hair, tossing it to the side boredly. She absolutely despised her mother's constant attempts to feminize her - hair ribbons (and bows, for that matter) held no place in her life any longer. Shaking her golden mane loose, catching the eye of an older Ravenclaw, she purposefully ignored his admiring gaze and crossed over the threshold into the next car.

Pulling a tube of lipstick from her skirt pocket, she slipped the cap off and carefully twisted it upwards. A rich red greeted her, a familiar red - the lipstick belonged to her mother, for it was Mrs. McKinnon's signature color. Marlene had envied the cardinal hue for years but she had always been denied the opportunity to wear it.

Even now, she could hear her mother's words echoing in her ears:

" _It just isn't a very flattering shade on you, darling."_

However, as Marlene dabbed it gently onto her lips she couldn't help but think her mother a liar. It was actually most flattering indeed but that came as no surprise - most things were on her and that was just a fact. Practicing restraint, she utilized only the smallest amount to highlight her full pout, admiring the effect in the polished brass trimmings of the train's windows.

"Move out of the way, will you?"

An angry voice interrupted her ministrations as a nearby door swung open, a firm shoulder shoving Marlene roughly into the wall of the train car.

"Oi!" Whirling around, she tucked the lipstick away and turned to faced the rude boy, drawing herself up to her full height. "What in the bleeding hell is wrong with you?" She growled, narrowing her eyes furiously.

The boy looked down at her over his hooked nose, for he was much taller and lankier than she, then frowned as his eyes fell on her freshly coated lips with a sneer. He saw no use for such a narcissistic creature and made no secret of that, not even bothering to apologize as he swept past her.

A flash of red hurried behind him, a kind girl pausing to mouth a silent apology to Marlene as she struggled to catch up with the greasy haired lad. The redhead's brilliant green eyes distracted Marlene from her rage momentarily and she watched them hurry past, intrigued by the genuine mortification she'd seen in the girl's expression.

The two were gone just as quickly as they'd arrived and while Marlene had half a mind to follow them, she knew it was soon approaching eleven o'clock - the train would depart in a matter of minutes. She began peeking into the compartments, annoyed at finding them all fully packed.

Towards the end of the corridor, Marlene opened the door to a cabin with its curtains still drawn, thinking it unoccupied. Instead, she was met by two surprised faces, a couple of similarly aged boys staring up at her from an enormous pile of chocolate frog cards.

Catching sight of a forest green sweater tossed over a chair back, she looked to them cautiously. "You two Slytherins?"

The longer haired of the boys let out a barking laugh, grabbing for the sweater and stuffing it into his leather satchel with an exaggerated scowl. "Merlin, I should hope not." He said darkly.

"Looking for someone?" The other boy studied her curiously, an odd look about him as if he were struggling to remember something.

Marlene met his glance, suddenly trying to place his face. Biting her bottom lip, she regarded him for a long moment before it finally came to her. "Potter, right?"

"McKinnon?" James tried as well, hoping it wouldn't insult her if his guess wasn't on point.

"Marlene. But McKinnon is much more preferable." She leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms, obviously pleased that he'd remembered.

Marlene had quite the love-hate relationship with her Christian name, mostly because she'd been named after a maiden aunt whose only intellectual stimulation came in the form of foolish discussions with her multitude of smelly old cats.

She was, in Marlene's opinion, the most odious woman alive.

"Your family lives outside the Hollow, don't they?" James said thoughtfully, his eyes suddenly widening with excitement. "And your brother - Aldric, or was it Adrian - he's the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, isn't he?"

Marlene regarded James warily. "Aidan. And yes, I daresay I've heard that before."

"He's brilliant!" James turned to the other boy, having somewhat forgotten him in the meanwhile. "Sirius, you simply have to see him fly, he's just magnificent! I heard Puddlemere United's even rumoured to be scouting him."

"I didn't realize Aidan had proper fans." Marlene chuckled amusedly as James bubbled over with her brother's praises. "I'll be sure to let him know."

"I'm more of a Wimbourne fan, myself." Sirius commented, mostly just to add something to the conversation. Unlike his new friend, Quidditch wasn't really one of his greatest passions.

"And who are you, exactly? Besides someone with absolutely dreadful taste in Quidditch." Marlene tilted her head, regarding him disinterestedly.

"Sirius." He replied, choosing to ignore her passing judgement. "Sirius Black."

"Black." Marlene let the surname roll off her tongue, thoughts whirling around in her mind.

She had a fair memory for names and spare bits of information, not to mention her mother was an Abbot, a pure-blood with a knack for genealogy. "Black... Hmm. Quite sure about Slytherin, are you?"

"Been talking to my mother, I see?" Sirius shot back dryly.

Marlene grinned cheekily, charmed by how it easy it had been to ruffle him. It was obvious that this particular Black was decidedly _not_ Slytherin material, given he was in the company of a Potter. Truthfully, she'd only been pulling his leg and yet, Marlene found she rather enjoyed heckling the mysterious grey eyed boy.

"Pleasure, I'm sure. Good luck to you at the sorting." She pushed off the door frame, feeling listless - time to keep moving. "Ta."

"Wait!" James stood up, looking after her with a wistful expression. He had so much to talk to her about - her brother, if she played herself, when Quidditch tryouts were…

"Do you need a seat? You're more than welcome to ride with us." He motioned to the nearby bench, gallantly sweeping the pile of trading cards off of it and onto the floor.

Looking about absently, her gaze lingered momentarily on Sirius before she shook her head. "See you around sometime, perhaps." Marlene replied vaguely as the door clicked shut behind her.

As she started off again, she felt the train begin to move and the whistle hooted once, then twice, clouds of thick smoke billowing past the windows. She hurried towards the exit, passing a short, heavyset boy struggling with a sizable trunk. Pausing, Marlene looked back to the compartment from which she'd just come before addressing him kindly.

"There's room in that one." She pointed, taking pity on the nervous (and obviously lost) fellow first year. The boy wiped a few beads of sweat from his brow, shoulders relaxing visibly.

"Thank you." He breathed heavily, thoughtfully pulling the trunk out of the way so that she could pass. Just below the handle, typeset in gold leaf were the letters P.P. embossed into the sturdy leather. The boy had just about given up on finding an available seat - until this angel of mercy happened upon him, that is.

Marlene returned his smile with a little one of her own, waving over her shoulder as she pushed her way into the next car and out of sight.

* * *

Peter despised crowds.

He loathed the noise, the jostling bodies, everyone knocking into him without realizing.

He didn't hate people, that distinction should be made perfectly clear, but he certainly disliked not being able to see _over_ them. His mother kept insisting he'd grow taller, just like all the other boys his age, but with every passing week even she sounded less and less sure of herself. He scarcely remembered his father but the senior Mr. Pettigrew hadn't exactly towered over his peers, that much Peter could recall.

"Peter! Pete, darling, I have your ticket!"

In terms of pint-sized Pettigrews, however, his mother took the cake; even at eleven, Peter was already a good head taller than the middle aged witch. She was surprisingly short, quintessentially barrel-like in stature, and uncompromisingly enthusiastic in her views of the world.

"Mum, there's really no need for a ticket." Peter glanced down sheepishly at the receipt she'd thrust into his hand. "Once you've gotten past the platform, you're… in."

"I know _that_ , silly." She dismissed, pressing her hands around his before attempting (unsuccessfully) to tug the luggage trolley forward. "Think of it as a keepsake, if you will. Today is a special day, love, we wouldn't want to forget it!"

Peter hurriedly shoved the ticket into his pocket and grabbed for the trolley handles. His mum had always been exceptionally sentimental, saving odd bobs and bits over the decades. However, the habit had reached new extremes in the past six years since his father's death - now, she clung onto meaningless things as if they were the actual memories she so desperately wanted to preserve.

All quirks aside, though, Enid Pettigrew was no match for the heavy cart and as such Peter dutifully took over, pushing it through clusters of loving families. Distractedly, he took in the sight of both mothers and fathers bidding their children adieu, struggling to imagine his dad doing the same for him.

It wasn't often that Peter missed him but this just so happened to be one of those rare occasions.

Not that he didn't miss him for lack of empathy - Peter had been just but five when his father had passed. He'd barely begun primary school; at that time, the greatest joys in his life were playing on the slide and the cookies his grandmother served after church services every Sunday.

That year, though, everything changed: first his father departed, his weak Muggle heart unable to sustain any longer, and then his gran followed soon after. Peter lost both his greatest protector and favorite person in a mere matter of months.

Not to mention the cookies. How he'd adored those cookies.

"I suppose it's time for you to board now." Enid smiled sadly as they stopped next to the train, double checking that the lock on his owl cage was tightly fastened.

"I suppose it is." Peter began tugging his trunk from the cart, looking on gratefully as an attendant appeared out of nowhere and began scooping up various pieces of luggage. Just as they began to load his trunk, though, his mother made a strangled noise and she leapt forward to stop him.

"You're not going to take that with you?" Enid looked between the luggage and her son anxiously, wringing her hands.

"I think we're meant to check it." Peter explained carefully, watching her hands pull at each other restlessly; that was never a good sign.

"But your grandmother's blanket, what if -"

"Mum, it will be fine with the porters." He frowned, silently kicking himself. He'd known it was a terrible idea when she'd suggested he take along the hand-knitted afghan his grandmother had made him as a little boy. Why in Merlin's name had he let her talk him into packing it?

"Peter, that's the only thing we have left to remember her by!"

"Then perhaps you should just keep it -"

"But she would want you to have it!" His mother's voice raised frantically. "How else will you remember her?"

Peter sighed, setting a hand on her shoulder as he looked to Enid dejectedly. He knew her well enough to recognize the telltale signs before she became hysterical and consequently impossible to reason with. While his mother had never left him to want for much after his father had gone, he secretly missed the woman she used to be - the calmer, more rational woman of years now long past.

"Fine." He conceded. "I'll carry on my trunk, if it will put your mind at ease."

Enid broke out into a relieved smile, clutching her son's face lovingly in her hands. Planting a kiss on each cheek, she promptly forgot about anything else but sending him off properly. Peter suspected there was a handkerchief stuffed up her sleeve but she stubbornly refused to use it in front of him, not even shedding a tear after he'd boarded the train without her.

Not long after, though, he found himself thinking of the handkerchief once again and enviously at that. Sweat was building up on his forehead, muscles aching as he battled with the treacherous trunk. The train's narrow corridors were unintentional obstacle courses and most of the compartments were much too occupied to fit both boy and luggage easily.

Crossing into yet another car, he paused, leaning heavily against the wall. Peter suddenly regretted insisting that they purchase this _precise_ trunk in Diagon Alley the other week. He'd thought it looked rugged, adventurous even, but in all actuality, the only thing it truly was was obscenely heavy.

Students passed by as he rested, some glancing pityingly in his direction but most stepping around him without a second thought. Peter didn't mind for once that he was being ignored, though, for he was hot and tired and inwardly he knew he'd already perspired sloppily through his undershirt.

"There's room in that one."

Peter blinked as a voice interrupted his downtrodden thoughts, a halo of pure gold coming into focus. For a moment, he wasn't quite sure where to rest his gaze - the cascade of golden curls or her shockingly blue eyes - but eventually he settled on the girl's sympathetic expression.

He wiped away a few drops of sweat self-consciously, calmed by the stranger's sudden appearance. "Thank you." He swiftly moved his trunk out of the way, allowing her room to pass.

He didn't know who the girl was but she was beautiful, radiant even as she not only solved his problems but also smiled graciously in his direction. Granted, it wasn't a very big smile and she immediately walked away after without properly introducing herself, but it was still enough to make his heart skip a beat.

He waited until the blonde was gone then knocked on the door, pulling it open cautiously. Two first years sat inside, one with effortlessly tousled hair that Peter immediately envied and the other decidedly intimidating, his patrician mouth settling into a thin line as he looked the newcomer over stiffly.

The messy haired boy looked to Peter's trunk, somewhat confused to see him still holding onto it, but tactfully made no comment on how odd he found the situation.

"Were you in need of a seat?" He guessed.

Peter nodded. "Aye. A girl - the one who just left, she told me there was room in here."

The two boys looked to one another briefly, a silent sort of conversation passing between them, and Peter waited patiently for their invitation rather than simply entering. Eventually, the shorter haired boy stood and reached for Peter's trunk, helping him pull it into the cabin with a crooked smile.

"James." He introduced himself kindly. "James Potter. And that's Sirius."

Peter grinned widely as James accepted him in, nodding for a second time as Sirius raised his fingers in a quiet greeting. "I really appreciate this, honestly, you have no idea..." He trailed off, acutely aware of just how overzealous (not to mention squeaky) his words had just come out.

Sirius raised a brow, holding back an amused smile. "It's just a seat, mate."

Peter shrugged, cheeks reddening. "Regardless… thanks."

As he went about stowing the trunk, leisurely settling into the cabin, behind his back the other two resumed their private conversation. Sirius began to organize the chocolate frog cards James had so unceremoniously swept aside, carefully aligning them into a neat pile; he may have prided himself on being a bit of a renegade but a little tidiness never hurt anyone.

James caught his eye, motioning to Peter with his chin: _We can always ditch him after the Sorting, right?_

Sirius followed his gaze to Peter, nodding ever so slightly. _There's no way he'll be in Gryffindor._

James leaned back lazily. _He's Hufflepuff material, if I ever did see one._

Oblivious to their inner thoughts, Peter sunk into his seat and looked to them carefully. He felt nervous, as he did around most new people (making friends had never been one of his strengths), but especially so around these two. They had an air of natural confidence about them that he simply couldn't relate to and, in Sirius' case, a remarkable way of commanding the room.

Peter may have been grateful to have finally have found a spare seat but he also couldn't help wondering if he'd actually gotten in over his head instead.

"So, what house are you hoping for?" Sirius asked casually. "I hear Hufflepuff's supposed to be rather nice."

James bit back a laugh, shooting his new mate a pointed look. "We're aiming for Gryffindor, ourselves."

Peter glanced between them uneasily. "Do we have to choose? I thought the Sorting took care of all of that for us."

Sirius pulled his long legs up, resting an elbow on his knee. "To an extent." He agreed thoughtfully. "But ultimately, surely we can persuade the hat to take… other things... into consideration."

Peter sensed there was a lot Sirius hoped would be taken into 'consideration', judging by the severity with which he broached the subject. "I haven't put much thought into it." He admitted.

"You really have _no_ preference?" James queried carefully, attempting to discreetly extract any possibility of Slytherin aspirations.

"Gryffindor wouldn't be bad, I suppose." Peter mused, entirely ignorant that he was being tested. "Bravery and all that - sounds rather promising, doesn't it?"

Sirius nodded, seemingly satisfied by the answer. "Anyone but Slytherin, correct?"

"Anyone but Slytherin." Peter echoed after a pause, fiddling with his coat zipper.

Truthfully, Peter had grown up fairly sheltered from the magical world; everything still felt more confusing and new than he dared to admit. His mum may have been a witch but she'd chosen to raise him in a Muggle community since birth, not even leaving after his father's death. Now, more than ever, Peter felt the need to surround himself with strong individuals, those who innately embodied the courage and fortitude he himself inherently lacked.

People like James and Sirius, for example.

Besides, it wasn't as if Gryffindor would be the worst choice - even he had heard rumours of Slytherin from his own mother over the years. With his familial background and lack of magical prowess, Peter sincerely doubted they'd welcome him with open arms.

The boys quieted as the train began to shake to life, pulling away from the station after several puffs of thick smoke. Their journey had finally started, new lives waiting at the end of the line, and from the looks of it, they'd be in it together.

And then, for the third time that morning, the door swung open once again.

A scruffy chestnut head popped in, peeking around before he caught glimpse of the vacant seat next to Peter. His green eyes softened at the edges, a kind look about them, and he smiled slowly. Despite the severe scar on his cheek and unusually pale disposition, there was something inexplicably genuine in his mannerisms; the others couldn't help but return his lopsided grin.

"Mind if I join you?"

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Sorry for the lapse in updates - _eep_. Life, what can I say? Good news: introductions are finally complete. I know it's been a long time coming, I honestly never intended these to drag out over so many chapters, it somehow just… happened.

For those of you whom have done so, thanks for sticking around.

And with that, I say goodnight.

xx Charlie


	6. Kindred

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own nor make any claims to anything Harry Potter related. This story is entirely my own creation and it is merely the nonsensical ramblings of an idle author._

 **September 15, 1971**

 **6\. Kindred**

Two weeks had passed since the start of term.

First year students had settled into the dorms, only just memorized their course schedules, and were still inexplicably getting hopelessly lost en route to anything above the first four floors. Yet, all in all, most had begun to adjust; for a select few, though, the first two weeks meant something entirely different.

The first two weeks signified endless waiting, impatiently anticipating the main highlight of the season: it meant Quidditch tryouts, which only tantalized fans with the distant promise of actual matches come November. For those such as James Potter, that meant far more than any trivial class or dull essay - in fact, it even meant more than being sorted into Gryffindor itself.

It meant, quite frankly, everything.

Not that James had had much to concern himself with thus far; like much of his existence, things had simply fallen into place. As expected, he'd easily made it into Gryffindor House. More importantly, to his delight so had three others, for since meeting on the train the unlikely foursome had become increasingly inseparable.

Most notably was Sirius Black, astonishingly brilliant and a keen partner in all things good and evil (especially the evil bits). Then there was Remus Lupin, faithfully studious but sharp-witted and somehow sharper-tongued if properly provoked. Even little Peter Pettigrew: despite his shortcomings, he was proving to be a most loyal follower and convenient lookout during their clandestine late night explorations of the castle. Rules merely served as vague guidelines in James's mind and he had wasted no time at all breaking curfew in search of adventure, for that's precisely what the castle represented to him - adventure and mounds of it.

This particular morning, though, secret passages were the farthest thing from his thoughts. This morning was all about Quidditch and Quidditch only and as such, James had dragged Sirius along to worship at its gates long before the sun had risen. It should subsequently be noted that one of the two was far more excited than the other.

And that person clearly was _not_ Sirius Black.

James was bouncing about the pitch with limitless energy, for he'd spent most of the night before polishing a shiny new broom, a generous present from his father for carrying on the family tradition. His mindless fidgeting only increased with every new arrival, practically reaching a frenzy with that of their renowned Gryffindor captain. As the team and prospective players gathered on the field, he was secretly grateful for Sirius's company - even if it actually only consisted of Black yawning boredly and kicking absently at the turf.

"Five more minutes." James checked his watch for the twelfth time, shifting anxiously from foot to foot.

"Wasn't Remus coming?" Sirius raised a hand to his brow, squinting into the sunlight as he struggled to make out any identifiable shapes amongst the stands.

"Thought so." James frowned. "Then again, McGonagall asked to speak with him before breakfast and I haven't seen him since."

Resting against his own impressive broomstick, Sirius pulled a displeased face. "She's been doing that often lately, hasn't she?"

Unlike James, the obscenely expensive racing broom at his side hadn't been a gift but rather an explicit bribe to not attend any further family functions until his newly granted Gryffindor status could be "rectified."

"Something to do with his mum, perhaps?" James obsessively rubbed a stray smudge from his broom handle, already distracted. Besides, he didn't really know Remus well enough to pry.

A low wolf-whistle interrupted their musings and they turned curiously, immediately spotting the inspiration for the cat call. One of their fellow first year Gryffindors had walked onto the field, a worn broom swung nonchalantly over her shoulder, and for a brief moment all other movement ceased. Choosing to flat out ignore the attention, Marlene McKinnon headed towards the group with a bored look about her.

Her long golden hair was pulled back into a messy plait, loose tendrils framing her face. To combat the unseasonably balmy weather, she'd opted not to wear the standard heavy robes in favor of more fitted clothing. Inexplicably, Marlene somehow managed to make the standard issue Quidditch uniform trousers and boots look far more fetching than anyone had the right to - even James had to admit it was hard not to take notice.

"Care to repeat that, Dearborn?"

Aidan McKinnon's voice cracked out like a whip, bringing the players back to attention and they blinked as a spell whooshed past the group. Caradoc Dearborn barely ducked out of the way in time, raising a hand to touch his singed eyebrows in shock as Sturgis Podmore laughed heartily nearby. As a second year beater, Dearborn should've understood their captain well enough to know he wouldn't tolerate anything remotely untoward - especially when it involved his baby sister.

Sirius raised a brow as Marlene smiled blithely, obviously amused, and gracefully mounted her broom. Flying past her brother, she paused just long enough to make a goofy face in his direction before soaring skyward.

Tryouts were suddenly looking much more promising, Sirius thought with a slow grin.

* * *

"Do tell me again why we're here," Emmeline Vance drawled boredly. "This isn't even our house."

"That doesn't much seem to matter." Dorcas Meadowes pointed out, glancing around the stadium; there was a fair representation of Slytherin emerald and Hufflepuff maize scattered throughout.

"And to think, we skipped a perfectly good breakfast for this." Mary MacDonald idly twirled a strand of dark hair around her fingers.

"Correction: we skipped breakfast so that _you_ could try out." Dorcas scoffed. "Not _chicken out_ , mind you, but actually try out."

"Next year." Mary brushed the dig aside. "Next year will be my year."

She'd had all intentions of trying out for the team, truly she had, even up until the train ride to school. But, then the sorting happened and things… changed. Nothing had gone as planned: yes, Mary had been sorted into Gryffindor but more importantly, Dorcas hadn't. Doe was a Ravenclaw now and nothing Mary did could ever change that fact.

She missed her best friend terribly and her confidence had been shaken because of it.

Dorcas, however, was flourishing. Naturally, she'd been disappointed not to have made it into Gryffindor (mostly on Mary's account) but she also couldn't deny that Ravenclaw felt like home. There was something wonderfully reassuring about finally finding one's place around like minded people, those of whom included her new friend and confidante, a certain Ms. Emmeline Vance herself.

The two had bonded almost instantly over having nearly identical class schedules and they often could be found whispering late into the night. Truthfully, they'd come together mostly out of necessity, for their other dorm mates (Ignatia Desford and Esme Bagnold, respectively) were second cousins and completely inseparable. It was either be friends or be lonely for the next seven years; by pure logic alone, they simply had no choice but to be comrades.

It was a bond that had not escaped Mary, not by a longshot, and she was still a little unsure about Emmeline's constant presence - not unhappy, per se, but definitely uncertain.

"What if there isn't an open seeker spot next year?" Dorcas queried stubbornly.

"Then I'll try out for chaser. _You_ made it onto the Ravenclaw team, so we know it can't be terribly difficult." Mary sniped, annoyed by Doe's nagging; it wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation since breakfast.

Dorcas turned and glared murderously at Mary.

"You two sound like an old married couple." Emmeline raised her binoculars, scanning the crowd for more friendly allies. In two short weeks, she'd already learned not to get between the childhood mates.

"She'd only be so lucky." Dorcas retorted, holding out a palm wordlessly and Emmeline dutifully handed off the binoculars. Unlike Vance, Doe was actually there to get a glimpse of the competition she'd be facing in a few short weeks.

"Wish we'd thought to bring along some snacks." Mary sighed, rubbing her stomach wistfully. This already had the makings of a long morning.

* * *

"She's magnificent." James breathed enviously, riveted as Marlene flew with almost reckless abandonment, climbing higher and higher into the air above their heads.

"She's mad." Sirius grimaced as the girl suddenly dipped, spinning into a breakneck dive.

He honestly had nothing against flying: damn respectable pastime, it was. Heights, however, were another story entirely. Not that Sirius shared that fear often - or with many, for that matter - as it certainly didn't bode well for the image he was attempting to cultivate.

"Quit showing off, McKinnon." Aidan grinned good-naturedly as his sister stopped just inches above the ground. "There will be no preferential treatment, ya' hear?"

"I've never needed special consideration in my life, Aidan," Marlene returned confidently as she joined the other hopeful candidates, cheeks flushed pink from the wind. "And you know it."

* * *

"Humility isn't exactly one of Marlene's stronger points, is it?" Alice Prewett chuckled.

"I venture 'modest' and 'Marlene McKinnon' have never once been uttered in the same sentence." Lily Evans confirmed with a tinkly laugh of her own.

"She's right talented, isn't she?" Alice sighed, watching as their friend finished up yet another impressive performance and began to run laps around the pitch. Alice had once heard her mum say the universe didn't give with both hands but clearly Marlene was an exception to that rule.

Lily hummed in acknowledgement, leaning back lazily into her seat. Quidditch was still a tremendously new concept to her and as someone not necessarily athletically minded in the Muggle world, she wasn't yet completely convinced of its appeal. However, tryouts had been all the buzz that week and it seemed the place to be, so she hadn't exactly resisted when Alice suggested they meander down to the stadium earlier on.

Truth be told, Lily had felt rather relieved when Alice was also sorted into Gryffindor.

There was something entirely pleasant about the girl, much like Marlene, but there was also an unshakeable kindness to Alice that Lily coveted above all else. Not to say that Lily wasn't fond of all the new girls in the dormitory - one should definitely not forget Mary, with her infectious (albeit loud) laugh and wildly vivid stories but Alice, well, Alice was something _special_. The four girls were family, even after only a couple of weeks, and Lily wouldn't trade them for anything in the world.

"Isn't it lovely watching other people exercise?" Alice mused, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Entirely." Lily pulled her bag closer, rooting through the pockets. "Especially so when one isn't required to partake. Now, might I interest you in some chocolate?"

Alice's face lit up and she clapped her hands happily. "Oh, yes, please!"

Now _this_ was the proper way to enjoy Quidditch tryouts.

* * *

"Say, what do you think of her?" James casually pointed his chin in the direction of the crowds as they finished up a particularly gruelling drill, pulling off his leather flying gloves.

"MacDonald?" Sirius followed his gaze. "She's a laugh, I s'pose."

"No, not her." James cleared his throat. "The one the next row up, with the eyes."

"You really should try and be more vague, mate." Sirius dead-panned.

"The _green_ eyes, you twit." James clarified impatiently, shooting him a glare.

" _Ah._ Her." Sirius rested his hands on his knees as he breathed heavily, shrugging. "Bit on the quiet side, isn't she? I hardly ever see her without our mutual friend in tow."

James clenched his jaw at the mere mention of Snape. "D'you hear he hexed Marcus Avery yesterday?"

Sirius nodded. "Peter told me. Gave him a right nasty concussion, apparently - he's banged up in the hospital wing 'til Friday. Appears even Snivellus's fellow Slytherins aren't particularly welcoming."

Despite the pair's lackluster first impression of Peter, he was proving to have some genuine merits, such as hearing about the latest gossip before it seemingly even happened.

"She's a Muggle-born, too. That's how they know each other." James said quietly.

"Who? The one with the hair?" Sirius snorted.

"If she keeps following him around like this, they'll go after her next." James ignored Sirius's teasing tone, brows furrowing as he studied Lily carefully. He didn't know her very well - or at all, really - but there was something about the redhead that nagged at him.

"And yet, the real question is why are you so concerned, mate?" Sirius asked, following James's example and unenthusiastically mounting his broom again.

"She's one of us." James shot back defensively as they flew over to the group, waiting patiently for Sirius to catch up. "We should stick together - you know, as Gryffindors and all."

"My, that's mighty big of you." Sirius commented, thoroughly unimpressed.

"C'mon." James rolled his eyes, obediently taking a spot in line amongst the rest as the whistle sounded again. "We've got a team to join."

* * *

"I can't believe you had chocolate, biscuits, _and_ leftover toast in there." Alice giggled as she poked at Lily's satchel, thoroughly entertained by her friend's voracious appetite.

"What?" Lily looked to her innocently. "Sometimes I get hungry."

The whistle blew for the umpteenth time and Alice stretched her arms high above her head, basking in the warm sunlight. It was a beautiful day for practice (or rather, snacking) and thankfully by the looks of it, tryouts were soon coming to an end.

"We should probably head down and catch up with Marlene before her head gets even bigger." Alice said with a knowing wink. The youngest McKinnon had fleeced almost all of the other competitors at practice and they could practically feel the smugness radiating off of her.

"S'pose so." Lily joined Alice in a stretch as she stood, catching sight of a messy haired boy off in the distance.

 _Wonderful_ , she thought sarcastically, her mind flashing back to a conversation the night prior. Severus had stomped about the library for nearly half an hour, vehemently cursing Potter and his best mate after they'd childishly hid his Potions homework in a spare cauldron.

Needless to say, simply because Lily adored her dorm mates didn't mean she was equally as fond of the other inhabitants of Gryffindor tower - especially _that_ one.

* * *

"Evans!" Marlene waved enthusiastically. "Won't you give it a go?"

"I'd much prefer to stay on solid ground, thank you," Lily called back, throwing her robes over her arm as she wandered onto the green. Alice hurried forward to meet Marlene as she dismounted, breaking into indiscriminate chatter. Two figures landed nearby, a couple of familiar and untimely faces coming into view. Lily glanced to them warily, her expression guarded.

"Evans?" James echoed experimentally. "Has a nice ring to it, I must say."

" _Lily_." She clarified, crossing her arms obstinately. "Just _Lily_ , if you must."

"What are you going on about?" James asked, taken aback at her sudden hostility.

"'Evans' is reserved for friends." She narrowed her eyes. "And we are decidedly _not_ friends."

Marlene and Alice inched closer, exchanging worried glances as they watched Lily's cheeks flush: this couldn't possibly end well. Not that James was much better, puffing out his chest and scrunching up his eyebrows like that; kindred spirits, they were.

"Yeah, well, I don't remember offering," James countered, mentally kicking himself immediately afterwards. He hadn't intended to sound quite so childish but it was too late now.

"Yeah, well, good, because I wouldn't have accepted," Lily raised her chin haughtily, groaning internally. _That_ was the best she could come up with? _Urgh_.

"Honestly, could you be more infantile, Evans?" James rebuked.

"Says the moron who hides other people's homework - what are you, six?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Evans _\- Lily_ \- where are you going? Wait -"

Sirius came up behind James, clapping a hand on his mate's shoulder as they watched the redhead stalk off the pitch. "Don't suppose she's been talking to Snivellus about us, d'you?"

"I'd say there's a fair chance." James frowned, throwing his arm around Sirius as they turned and made their way towards the locker rooms. He didn't need to be Lily's friend - he didn't need to be her anything. He was simply trying to look out for a fellow Gryffindor, that's all.

 _Girls._

At least he had Quidditch to fall back on. Quidditch never acted irrationally or got short with him. She may be a fickle mistress in disagreeable weather but other than that, a good game was almost always a certainty.

Quidditch would never let him down, that much James could count on.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

What's this? An actual chapter after so many long months?

Sorry about the long wait, friends. Life has a way of getting in the way of things, doesn't it? Well, I'm back now and hope to continue this story. Hopefully our followers will continue to stick by us.

Until chapter seven, lovelies.

xx Charlie


	7. Brotherhood

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own nor make any claims to anything Harry Potter related. This story is entirely my own creation and it is merely the nonsensical ramblings of an idle author._

 **October 22, 1971**

 **7\. Brotherhood**

The nightmares always began at least one week before the full moon.

Not that anyone outside of his inner circle had ever linked the two events together, mind you, yet this particular timeline held much significance to Remus John Lupin. It meant a great deal because ever since Remus had been nearly five years old, he'd suffered identical spells of night terrors. Spells in which he'd wake up drenched in sweat, hysterical and reliving the fateful moment in which he'd encountered a one Mr. Fenrir Greyback.

Thankfully, by some grace the nightmares didn't come every single month - not even every other one, least not since his tenth birthday - but when they did, it was a sure sign that his transformation was destined to be exceptionally painful that upcoming cycle.

His father had once speculated that it likely had something to do with growth spurts, attempting to put a half-hearted diagnosis to his son's most troubling predicament. Not that it mattered to Remus, though, for once the dreams began he only spiraled further into self-loathing and confusion. As if being a pre-teen wasn't difficult enough, it went without saying that being a budding lycanthrope was exceptionally worse.

This round of nightmares, however, was even more troubling than usual.

For the first time in his brief life, Remus now had roommates: three unsuspecting innocents sleeping in disturbingly close proximity to the young werewolf and that prospect terrified him more than anything else had before. What if his transformation came early? What if something went horribly wrong and the boys awoke to find a deranged monster in their midst? These wizards were his friends _,_ after all - the very first friends he'd ever made. Remus was hardly naive enough to believe they would still be quite so keen on him after he'd attempted to rip their throats out.

Last he checked, standard etiquette generally discouraged that sort of conduct.

More than anything, above all else his dreams were embarrassing. Last month, he had lied (a habit now rapidly becoming second nature) and blamed the change in his living situation as the cause for his screams in the night. This month he'd have to be more creative - Halloween jitters, maybe? A result of the late night ghost stories and ghoulish tales Sirius was so fond of reading, perhaps?

Yes, that would do… He knew it was about as believable as the lies he'd spun the month before but it would do - it would have to.

Two months down, only six and a half more years to go.

Every time one of the boys shook him awake, peering down at him with worried looks in the darkness, Remus only wanted to retreat further into himself. He was not an adult but he was also by no means a young bairn anymore. It was bad enough when his mum used to rush to his side every night, much less now James or Sirius. And yet, at the same time, he wanted nothing more than his mother's comfort some nights, wistfully recalling the familiarity and safety of his old bedroom. No one was bothered by how many times Remus awoke screaming in the Lupin's modest home; he wasn't an abnormality there.

The worst one of them all, though, was Peter, for after confirming that Remus was calm once again, he would merely just sit there, sometimes reading quietly or staring off into space until Lupin drifted off. He was stoic in his support, unflinching when it came to his friend's fits. Remus was inexplicably equal parts both grateful and enraged at Peter's kindness; he knew it was irrational to feel as such but he couldn't help himself.

That particular night was no exception.

Come just half past three in the early hours of the morning, Remus was found once again thrashing about in his bed, pulling savagely at the velvet curtains and screaming incoherently until his voice went hoarse. Across the room, James tumbled clumsily out of a tangle of bedsheets as he grappled for his glasses, blinking as his sleepy eyes adjusted to the dim light. He stepped cautiously in Remus's general direction, arms outstretched zombie-like as he blindly navigated the abandoned books and shoes littering the floor.

Tonight it was his turn to talk Remus down. Tonight, James would pat his friend's arm comfortingly until he too nodded off, collapsing in an exhausted heap over Remus's feet like a loyal pet. Tonight it was his turn and tomorrow, it would be Sirius's - the boys had an unspoken schedule and as such, James was on duty.

One day, in the distant future, Remus would later thank him for it. One day, after many moons had passed, Remus would even return the favor after the horrors of an Order raid gone horribly wrong but for now, tonight he was the one in need.

Tonight, Remus was the one hurting.


End file.
